


no one else can heal your wounds

by jbhmalum



Series: prompt fics [10]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Other, Swearing, also bad flirting. well sort of, bisexuals tell me im wrong and ill take it back, i forgot to add they are ROOMMATES obviously, i think this might be the definition of chaotic bisexual energy, just general dumbassery, non binary character, nose bleeds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28808256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbhmalum/pseuds/jbhmalum
Summary: Being a child at heart, Michael thinks, is probably their favourite thing about themself.Only problem is, on occasion, it’s also their least favourite thing about themself.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: prompt fics [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005603
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	no one else can heal your wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petalrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalrock/gifts).



> hi! wrote this for the prompt "It's not heavy. I'm stronger than I look." that [adri](https://rotten-candie.tumblr.com/) sent me! i hope you like it this is really dumb lmao i had fun with it!
> 
> Enjoy xx

Being a child at heart, Michael thinks, is probably their favourite thing about themself.

Only problem is, on occasion, it’s also their least favourite thing about themself.

Michael isn’t dumb, not by nature. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been acing their classes, especially not their psych class. Of course, Luke would say the opposite if he were asked, but he’s not being asked right now, and Michael would challenge everyone that dared to take Luke’s word against theirs.

However, Michael will admit that they don’t  _ always  _ think things through before doing them. Like that time they tried to lit their own fart on fire and they almost burnt their ass. Or that time they ate three whole pizzas in one evening because the boys didn’t show up and the pizzas were just  _ there, _ it would have been a shame to let them go uneaten. Or that time they wanted to prove to Ashton that they could definitely go on a rollercoaster because their fear of heights was over and done with.

(They’d ended up puking on Calum’s brand new converse, and fairly enough Calum had refused to talk to them for days. The dorm was very tense during those days.)

Tonight, Michael isn’t being the brightest. But that’s only because they’re bored, and the Beyblades were just lying there haphazardly on the dorm’s floor waiting for someone to play with them. And Beyblades are fun; Calum got those for Michael for their birthday. It was sweet, really. He’d just bought the box because he saw it while shopping and thought Michael would enjoy it, and got it for them even though they’d only known each other for less than three months.

Micheal had accepted the gift almost shyly; they hadn’t thought Calum had remembered them talking about missing the toys because they hadn’t dared bringing them to college. But Calum had insisted he wanted his roommate happy. It is a childish thing to get excited about, but the toys do make Michael happy, and Michael is glad Calum isn’t planning on making fun of them for being a complete nerd. They’re glad he’s encouraging it.

He has told Michael that none of this is an excuse to act like a child and get himself in trouble though, that keeping the energy of one if enough, but Michael has never really been good at doing what they're told to do.

Sat on the floor between the two beds, Michael assembles two of the Beyblades, then launches them one by one in the stadium.

"Calum," Michael says excitedly. "Look, they're battling! Storm Pegasus is winning." 

"Mike, you’re cute, but I'm trying to study,” Calum replies from his bed, gnawing on his pen and brow furrowed at his textbook.

Michael takes a moment to look at him. They’d never thought they’d ever be into the whole frat boy look with the snapbacks and and sports shirts, but somehow Michael has been thinking Calum is the most attractive guy he’s ever seen since the moment they saw him, moving boxes into the small room before shaking Michael’s hand with a firm grip. With his strong arm. Arms which are currently on display, still looking strong even while relaxing.

Michael bites their lip before going back to their spinning tops, the battle almost over.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I think I need to study more than that.”

“Lame,” Michael mumbles as the battle ends, Poison Serpent defeated as predicted.

Calum hums. "Says the one who's on the floor playing with spinning-tops."

"How would you know I’m on the floor, you won’t look at me."

"Won’t I?"

Michael stops mid-launch to look back up at Calum. His deep brown eyes are focused on Michael, twinkling with something Michael would call mockery if they didn’t know Calum the way they do. Which sounds like a strange thing to say, they’re aware; they’ve only known each other for six months, barely, but Michael knows Calum is just teasing.

Michael isn’t worried about Calum being anything other than a kind soul, despite being really popular and very cool. They’re currently worried about something else, though. They cross their arms and pout at Calum.

“So, you don’t want to look at me to see which one of my Beyblades is winning, but you’ll do it to prove I’m lame?”

Calum raises an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

“I’m not lame,” Michael grumbles. “I’m passing the time.”

Michael throws another two spinning-tops, and Calum rolls his eyes before going back to his textbook and notes, the slight smile on his face making Michael’s heart leap in his chest.  _ That’s  _ lame, but Michael doesn’t linger on it.

Calum continues studying even as Michael can see his eyes getting tired from focusing for so long and Michael continues playing, their pulls on the ripcords almost more aggressive. It’s been pouring outside, and Michael hasn’t done anything all day and Calum hasn’t been paying attention to them because of  _ classes  _ and now they’re getting restless.

"Careful,” Calum says suddenly when Michael’s launched something a tad too far away, escaping the stadium and ending up hitting the bedside table. “You're gonna put dents in the furniture or you're gonna end up losing something."

"No I'm not, I know what I'm doin– no! Shit."

"Lose something?" Calum chuckles.

Michael doesn't reply, too busy pulling a face at the Beyblade flying under their bed and remaining there. With a sigh they push the stadium to the side and lay on their stomach to try and reach for the toy, but to no avail. The bed is too big and the space between the bottom of it and the floor is too narrow for their arm and shoulder to fit under it. Why don’t bed manufacturers know that things always end up under there? Michael will have to file a complaint, when they’re done getting their Beyblade back.

Nothing can be done like this, apparently, so Michael is left with two choices; the smart one, which would be to go and grab a broomstick or something in another room to get the toy out, and the dumb one, which consists in staying here and lifting the bed to get it back.

Michael is lazy, so they elect the second option.

It’s not as easy as they’d thought it would be. There’s no angle from which the bed gets miraculously lighter, and the bedframe keeps hitting the wall with every move Michael makes.

“What are you doing?” Calum sighs. Michael can hear him putting his stuff down.

“I’m lifting the bed, idiot,” they grunt. They’re getting there, slowly but surely.

There’s silence behind them, only the sound of Michael’s grunts filling the room. “Do you need help, maybe?” Calum asks, teasing. “You're not doing it right, you're gonna hurt your back." 

Michael frowns, turning their head towards Calum. They almost drop the bed when they notice where Calum’s eyes are on them. Definitely not on their face. “Hey, don’t underestimate me. It’s not heavy.”

“It kind of is,” Calum says, looking up at Michael with a smirk.

“Well, I’m stronger than I look.” They’re not entirely convinced of this themself —this stupid bed must weigh three times their own weight— but maybe they can convince Calum.

Maybe if they do Calum won’t be able to resist them and will finally ask them out on a date.  _ Finally _ , because the two of them have been flirting since they met, and they’re both aware of it, but it seems they’re both too stubborn to ask the other out.

Michael turns back around, contemplating how they’re going to reach for the toy now that the bed is somewhat off the floor. If their butt is sticking out a little as they lean forward, it’s not on purpose.

“Whatever, don't come crying if you can't sleep because you're hurting,” Calum says, but he sounds distracted. Perfect. At least he’s paying attention to them, now. “You should, huh. You should study a little bit too, though. At some point.”

Michael smiles at Calum’s tone of voice. Their fingers are  _ so close _ to the toy now, just a little more and then they have it.

“Nah,” they shrug off, but they can tell they sound a bit out of breath. The bed is getting really heavy, especially holding it with one hand. “Have you met me? I’m way too smart already, if I studied my genius would get out of control and– ow _ fuck.” _

Michael feels a pounding in their entire face before they notice anything else, their head starting to spin a little. Everything is swimming in front of them for a second, every shape blurry around the edges, their breathing loud in their own ears. They might be passing out suddenly. Are they?

“Shit, Mike, are you okay?”

Calum’s hands on their shoulders brings them back to themself, which is both a blessing and a curse. They can see the bed is back on the floor, and that they’re almost lying on the floor, but they can also feel a sharp pain where their nose is, and they let out a totally not cool cry at that.

“No, don’t do that,” Calum says hurriedly, preventing Michael from bringing their hand to their face. “I, huh. It’s. It’s bleeding. You’re bleeding. Shit.”

“Cal, calm down,” Michael reassures, purely for Calum’s benefit. Their vision is getting a bit woozy; shaking their head to try and focus only makes it worse. “Shit, I guess it kinda hurts. Fuck me.”

They can still see Calum looking frantically around them, feel his hands moving from Michael’s shoulders to their jaw. They come away bloody when Michael hisses at the pain they cause on their face and Calum takes them away, apologizing.

“We should go to the infirmary.”

“No,” Michael says. “Don’t want to. Please.”

“Okay, but we need to do  _ something .” _

Calum looks around again, looking back at Michael every few second.

“Bathroom,” he says finally, getting up and holding a hand out to Michael.

At first Michael refuses, because they don’t feel like getting up. But they can see Calum starting to freak out — maybe he just doesn’t like the sight of blood; Michael is certain there isn’t that much of it though they can taste some that lingers on their lips — so eventually they take Calum’s strong hand and get off the floor.

It’s not as difficult as they’d thought, walking to the bathroom with Calum leading them there and not letting go of them. Thankfully, it’s not too far away from their dorm. Michael’s head is still spinning from the shock, but as Calum sits them down on the bathroom floor, stealing the hand towel and wetting it to clean their face, Michael can feel themself getting steadier.

“Are you back with me?” Calum asks when it looks like he’s done. The hand towel is really red, but Michael figures it’s okay. Noses just bleed a lot.

Michael smiles slightly. “I was never gone.”

“That scared me, you dumb fuck.” Michael whines at the tap on the head they recieve. “Sorry,” Calum says, actually looking contrite, but there’s relief in his eyes. “Your eyes were like, far away, at some point.”

“Dude, that shit hurt like a bitch.”

“Thought you’d handle pain better,” Calum says with a smirk.

“That was a whole fucking bed on my face.”

“Bed you assured me you were strong enough to lift.”

Michael scrunches his nose at the reminder, which only serves to make a sharp jolt of pain run through their nose. Calum shushes them as they wince and let their eyes fall shut for a minute. They take deep breaths through their mouth, trying to focus on that rather than the pain. Calum asks if they need to go to the hospital but Michael shakes their head, assuring it’s not broken. They don’t know that for sure, obviously, but they don’t feel like moving again.

“Can I see how it looks?” Michael asks when the pain gets manageable again.

“Do you want to get up to the mirror?”

“No, no no,” Michael says. They really don’t want to get up. “Just– do you have your phone with you or something?”

Of course Calum has his phone, so he takes it out of his back pocket and opens the camera so Michael can see themself in it. Michael almost does a double take when they see the black hair. Right, they did that. They honestly weren’t sure about it at first, but they’re pretty sure Calum’s jaw had dropped when he’d come back to their shared dorm after class a couple weeks ago to find Michael like this, so now Michael is thinking of never going back to any other colour.

“Well, at least I look punk rock with blood running down my chin,” they say, taking in the rest of their face. “Makes me look more cool.”

Calum gives them a look. “Please. You’re only bleeding cause you couldn’t reach your stupid Beyblade.”

“Well, no one has to know, do they?” Michael insists. “If anyone asks, I was coming to your rescue when some other guy tried to jump you or something.”

“Right, like anyone would believe that,” Calum says, but his face is kind of serious again, his hand coming up to stroke Michael’s cheek. It stings a little, but Michael ensures they don’t show it.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you don't look like you could take on someone else.”

Michael pouts at that, crosses their arms. Calum’s hand is still on their face, and it’s warm, and Michael doesn’t want it to leave.

“Hey, I like it,” Calum says softly, his eyes honest. “I like how soft you look. How soft you  _ are, _ even if you try not to show it to anyone with your hair and your black clothes and black boots.

Michael’s heart may have done another one of those weird dances in their chest. “Do you? Like it?”

“I do.”

Suddenly Calum’s face is very close to their own. Michael might have missed something, as they’re still feeling a little woozy, but it’s nice. They can see every pore on Calum’s skin, his warm eyes and his full lips inviting. Oh, they are very close. How nice it would be to have them on their own. If they could move, Michael would make the move and smash their lips against Calum’s.

In a second Michael closes their eyes as Calum leans in closer, but Michael only feels lips on the crown of their head. A bit of a disappointment, but it fills them with warmth nonetheless, makes their head spin again, but in the nice and fun way it does when their heart is happy.

“I swear I would have kissed your lips,” Calum starts, sounding sorry, “but I’m afraid that would hurt.”

Michael feels their jaw drop slightly, though they pick it up quickly before it hurts too bad. That doesn’t prevent their face from flushing.

“Oh?”

Calum smiles again. “Yeah, been meaning to do that.”

“Been wanting you to do that.”

“I know.”

They stare at each other, the look in Calum’s eyes fond. Michael wishes they could kiss him. They tell him so.

“Well, how about I take you back to the dorm, help you sleep. Maybe bring back some ice. And when you’re better, I can kiss you all you want. How do we feel about that?”

“I think that’s a phenomenal idea,” Michael smiles faintly. “Only if you leave to get the ice once I’m asleep. And then come back until I wake up.”

“On the condition that you promise there won’t be no bed lifting on your own ever again,” Calum teases, though Michael can tell he’s serious. “Thought you’d broken that pretty face of yours. Would have been too bad.”

“Okay,” Michael says, taking hold of Calum’s hand. “If it’s what it takes to keep you close. You got it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> comments/kudos are always appreciated :)  
> also i'm on [tumblr](https://michaelownsmyheart.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi!


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